


a matter of impulse control

by memehereagain



Series: Tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Annabeth’s got a banging body, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, Percy can’t help himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memehereagain/pseuds/memehereagain
Summary: Tumblr promptPercy just wants to look. Annabeth says he can’t.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: Tumblr prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011021
Comments: 6
Kudos: 165





	a matter of impulse control

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Look away”
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for more updates [@memehereagain ](https://memehereagain.tumblr.com)

“I’m changing!”

Percy closes the door behind him, kicking aside a pair of her heels laying somewhat precariously close to the entryway. He spies her by the closet, hunched over and angled away from the door, clutching a pretty, black bra to her chest.

“It’s just me.” He’s by the bed in one long-legged stride. “So damn jumpy,” he comments as he stretches out onto his back, one leg bent.

“Well,” she nervously eyes the shut door, “it’s been a long, mortifying month.” She’s resumed removal of that pretty, black bra, drawing down the straps, and Percy’s interested gaze tracks her movements. She catches his eyes in the mirrored closet doors and holds the displaced garment back to her chest.

**“Look away.”**

Percy props himself up on his elbows, slightly affronted. “Are you kidding me?” He rubs the back of his head in mild agitation. “What haven’t I seen?”

She hits a stern stance, hip popped and mouth set, still staring him down through the mirror. She reminds him of his sixth grade math teacher. His six grade math teacher did not like him.

“Percy. Look away. Or leave.”

Percy sits up, mouth gaping. “What’s going on here?”

“Percy.” He doesn’t like the way she’s repeating his name. “Your impulse control? Deplorable.” 

He lifts his hand, ready to interrupt, but she’s plowing on.

“Sally and Paul are taking us all out for dinner tonight, I’m pretty sure they’re paying, and I refuse to walk out your bedroom door and face Sally after I’ve done things, kinky things, with her son.”

“I wasn’t trying for anything!” His hands are out to the side in a very ‘what the hell’ kind of way.

“Until you see something you like and get excited.”

“You have obviously made up your mind.” Percy shifts back until he’s against the headboard and crosses his arms. She’s still facing the mirror, clutching her bra to her chest and it’s gotta be one she’s bought recently, the lace peeking through her fingers isn’t familiar… “And excited or not, I’m not gonna do anything if you aren’t into it. I understand consent,” he huffs.

“I know, I know,” she says. She’s dialing it back, trying to placate him. “It’s just,” she looks down and thumbs the top of her bra cup, “you can be very convincing.” She chews her lip and finds his eyes in the mirror. He grins.

She stamps her foot a little impatiently. “Percy,” there’s his name again, he still doesn’t like it, “look away, please. Or leave.” She’s finally turned to face him, leaning against the dark blue wall next to the closet, and she’s still holding that pretty, black, damn bra over herself.

“I’m not leaving,” Percy says stubbornly, laying back on the mattress. He makes a show of getting comfortable, placing his hands behind his head.

“Fine.” Her posture straightens and she’s looking right at him when she pulls her bra off. His eyes remain on her face, with much effort. They roam when she abruptly turns and deposits the garment in the dresser, pulling out a soft sports bra from the same drawer. She wriggles into it in quick movements, not without providing Percy with a tantalizing mirror view… fuck. He shifts on the bed.

Her hands go to the waist of her gray slacks, which she unbuttons and shimmies out of, tossing them carelessly onto the dresser. Percy doesn’t care. He does care about the black thong she’s got on, and how it frames her ass in a very nice way. 

After a moment of deliberation, she leans over to the basket of clean clothes next to the dresser and finds a more comfortable pair of panties, a turtleneck, and some jeans. She tosses them onto the dresser. She bends over and peels off her thong. Steps out of it. Pulls the other pair of underwear up her legs. Adjusts. Then she grabs her jeans.

Percy attempts to discreetly adjust himself behind his jeans, to no avail.

“I told you…” Her eyes have caught him in the mirror as she pushes her legs into her jeans.

“Well, you’ve got a banging body. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say whatever you want. I just don’t want you to do anything.”

“Fine. I’ll say this. We’ve been here for four weeks now-”

“Your choice. I wanted to sublease somewhere-”

“Which didn’t make any sense because we only had six weeks between leases and mom is right here-”

“Then why are you complaining?” She’s got her turtleneck on and is looking for shoes.

“Because it’s been four weeks! And we haven’t had sex in about as long-”

“That is not true! And _you_ are to blame for that because _you_ could tell Estelle she can’t sleep with us. What about two weeks ago?

“I can’t tell Estelle that. And I resent you for putting that on me. And two weeks ago? That rushed, fumbling interlude? Does not count.”

She straightens the lined, corduroy jacket she’s put on, then finger combs her curls. “I’m ready. Are you?”

He rolls out of bed. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Everyone was ready, they had really just been waiting for Annabeth to get back from work. He steps to her, ready to follow her out the door.

She pauses at the door, looking at him over her shoulder. “You good?”

“I’m fine enough.” She’s smiling and he shakes his head, he’s smiling too. “Open the door,” he laughs. “Let’s go.” He can hear Estelle yelling for them to hurry up.

“I’m just making sure.” She pulls the door open. “Things seemed a little hot under the collar for ya back there.”

He’s shaking his head with disapproval. “You enjoyed that a little too much-”

“I told you to leave.”

“Yeah. Right.” He steps past her, swatting her behind on his way. She lets out a muffled “hmfh” and steps after him, shoving his back.


End file.
